I slam into a deep puddle of murky water, thankfully keeping my face above the surface. Shakily rising to my feet, I shiver as the sounds of ominous laughter arise from behind me. Without a second thought I dash away, putting my hands on my ears to try and deafen the noise. I glance behind me, but bump into a figure and fall backwards as I do. When I look up at who I ran into, the girl with strawberry hair and a sunflower on her straw hat offers me her hand. I take it, and rise to my feet.
Sunlight caresses my eyes, which slowly flutter open as the strange images that I had seen while asleep play on repeat in my mind.
Was that… A dream?
My eyes going wide, I jump out of bed and dash down the stairs with my tail wagging up a storm behind me, nearly slipping and falling over as I fly off the last step. I slam the kitchen open and leap onto my mom, who grunts from the sudden impact, rolling her chair a bit to get a good look at me.
Pop always says that I look just like Momma, but I honestly think I look more like him. I do have her ears, tail, and claws, but the rest of me, including my blue eyes and chocolate hair, are the same as what dad has. On one hand, I kinda wish I had all of her Cagna traits or her beautiful black hair, but I know that if I did I wouldn’t be staying in this house.
Momma chuckles, patting me on my head. “Well, aren’t you energetic this morning, Fiora?”
I nod, feeling my ears flap a bit against my head as I declare, “I had a dream!”
Mom blinks a few times as she processes what I said, then happily pulls me into a hug as she laughs. “Oh, finally! I’ve been so worried about that! What a relief.”
I nod, a grin wide on my face. According to the village doctor, someone who honestly kinda gives me the creeps, I have little to no mana, something that made Momma really anxious when we learned about it. Dreams rely on mana to occur, so it’s a really good sign that I had one, even if it was short.
“Well, little miss, wait just a minute for our breakfast to finish.” Mom picks me up, rolling over to put me down onto my chair. “It won't be long, so wait just a moment dear.”
I watch quietly, kicking my feet below me as Momma rolls herself over to the oven, deftly collecting mana into her hands, a faint transparent flame covering her hands as she pulls a tray of biscuits out from within. She hums as she cuts two open, putting some creamy butter and grape jam on. I wipe my mouth, as she walks over, placing the plate of biscuits before me. I immediately begin to gorge myself on the meal, savory biscuits and butter melding perfectly with Momma’s special jam. Mom doesn’t eat any, just watching me with a wide smile as I devour her work.
Mom’s a bit weird sometimes.
As I am halfway through the last biscuit, I realize what time it is and I yelp, jumping out of my chair as I do. My mom simply smiles and offers me my satchel, which from the weight I can tell is now filled with a packed lunch. I toss it over my shoulder, waving goodbye as I run out the door. Nearly falling over as I dash out onto the slightly damp cobblestone road, I catch myself and begin my trek north to the village proper.
As I run, Justin and his cart roll on by, but I just stick my tongue out at him as I zoom past him. I get about halfway to my destination when Jeela, the village chief’s horse, comes running up to the side of the road to greet me. I can’t help but grin, screeching to a stop as I immediately hop over, patting the mare’s big fluffy head. I look around to see if anyone is watching me, then pull out the apple mom always packs for me, holding it out to the big beast. Jeela happily eats it in just a few bites, neighing in appreciation as I once again begin my journey.
I gleefully prance past a few villagers as I enter the village square, taking my place atop the stop that marks the very center of my home. I close my eyes, allowing for the noise of the world around me to flow into my ears. First, I hear how the merchants around the square peddle their goods, I hear the squirrels and birds enjoy the morning breeze a bit farther, then as I reach the end of my range I hear some of my fellow classmates laughing as they dash through the area.
I hear a quiet bell to the west, and open my eyes in horror.
I’m almost late!
Fleeing, I run as fast as my legs can carry me to the very western edge of town, where a tall old building stands proud above the rest. Built of gray concrete and granite, what is now known as the Turi schoolhouse was once a temple dedicated to the god of knowledge and returners. Teacher Bianca got a hold of it somehow when she moved to the village before I was born, converting it into a palace of learning.
I adore this place.
Panting, I slam the doors open and rush to my seat, breathlessly sitting down as the other kids giggle around me. I take deep breaths, then sigh in relief when I hear three bells ring at the head of the classroom.
Just in time…
I glance up as Teacher Bianca gracefully moves around her desk, standing behind her lectern with a smile on her lips. Her platinum blonde hair is styled in a perfectly braided bun, a style matched perfectly by her breathtaking but very out of place lacy white and scarlet gown. Her sapphire eyes are cold and judging, and I feel a shiver when her icy gaze pauses on me, where she momentarily gains a gentle smile before she silently shifts her expression back to her typical poker face.
Teacher Bianca was scary sometimes, with how easily she could put her mask on.
She claps her hands, looking over everyone that was here. “Okay class, after grading our last few lessons, I’ve decided we need to do a bit of a lecture on returners, because it seems that the previous ones have not been enough.”
All the kids behind me groan, but my ears twitch and my tail begins to wag a bit in excitement. Dad had told some of his adventurer stories last night, which I’ve definitely heard like a thousand times before, but this time he had included a detail I hadn’t heard before. Mainly, that the people he was partying during that particular story were returners.
“First of all,” Teacher Bianca mutters before she asks, “Who can tell me what a returner is?”
I watch as my neighbor’s hand shoots up, not waiting to be called on before they answer, “They’re people who died and came back!”
I shake my head, and our teacher frowns.
“Incorrect. A returner is a soul granted immortality by their patron god, in exchange for assisting them with their goals.” Bianca glares down at the boy, who shrinks in his seat. “They are not someone who has died, for they simply leave to return at a future date instead.”
A smug voice from behind me scoffs and retorts, “Pff, that’s just dying with a different name.”
Brother Fred. I frown and shake my head once again, earning a glare from him and Brother Felix, who sits next to him. For some reason, the two of them look uncannily similar, sort of like twins, especially their Kagna traits. I can only tell them apart because of their dark hair, which Fred tends to wear longer than Felix. Bianca sighs, tapping her finger on the edge of the lectern.
“No, the distinction is important. Death is irreversible and is the process where a mortal’s soul reenters the flow. When returners leave, there are quicker than normal ways to call them back, though it’s usually restricted to those closest to their patrons.” Bianca loudly hums as she taps her chin. “I have heard rumors that returners have the option of returning as a different person entirely, but I have no way of how you would prove that.”
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A few murmurs go through the classroom at that fact, and my eyes glimmer as my hand shoots up. Teacher Bianca smiles as she points at me, and I clear my throat as I ignore a couple of glares that I feel as I ask:
“How long does it take to return?”
Teacher Bianca smiles, her eyes scanning over the classroom.
“Hmm, good question, Fiora,” She states, then explains, “It’s well known that the earliest possible and most typical return is exactly five years after death, but there are examples of a returner waiting for a bit before they step back onto the mortal plane.”
I nod, and I see Brother Felin’s hand shoot up. Felin is the tallest of my siblings, but also the most kind. He always seems to have friends around him, yet he’s also annoyingly mischievous enough to get on my nerves pretty often. I have to grudgingly admit that he is my favorite brother though.
Felin clears his throat, then asks, “What is the mortal plane?”
Teacher Bianca gives a rare wide grin at that question, giving a clap of joy.
“Great question!” She waves a sparkling hand, creating a diagram in the air above her. “The mortal plane is where we are now, the world as we know it. Mortals are born and die here, before their souls enter the flow to be cleansed and reborn into a new person. When returners leave, they step into the divine plane, but what happens there is not information that I have.”
Felin smirks as he looks at me like he did something impressive, and I shrug as I give him a thumbs up. It was a good question, but we weren’t competing or anything.
I don’t get it.
The lesson then shifts to the normally planned math lesson, a totally droll set of hours where I sit there and watch as the other kids dawdle around easy logic puzzles. Eventually though, lunch comes, leaving me as the only one left in the classroom besides Teacher Bianca. She sits on the windowsill, watching the other students run around the yard outside.
I open my bag and am delighted to see that mom made me two separate sandwiches, one of which I immediately begin to consume. I quietly moan in delight, Momma’s special mustard combining perfectly with the smoked ham we got the other day. After the first suddenly vanishes, I begin to unwrap the second sandwich to freeze at a piece of paper wrapped within that I didn’t see before.
‘For Bianca.’
I groan, then hop out of my seat and trudge over to my teacher, who looks down at me in confusion, then does a double take when she sees the sandwich. I grimace as I hold it up and offer it to her, a warm smile stretching across her face when I do.
“Ah, Jesse is too kind,” Bianca mutters as she takes the divine gift out of my hands, “Do give her my regards, Fiora.”
I stick out my tongue and rush back into my seat, grumpily munching on the only thing left that momma sent- A bunch of carrots. I shouldn’t have given the horse my apple…
New lessons learned, the day continues as the other kids learn about math as I grumpily sit there regretting my decisions. Eventually, we are all dismissed, and I yawn as I drowsily pick up my bag. To my surprise however, Teacher Bianca comes up to me, leaning down to match my height as she looks into her eyes.
“Miss Fiora, could I have the pleasure of visiting your home this evening?” Bianca winks at me, her hands on her hips. “I have a feeling that there is something your parents want to talk to me about.”
I nod in affirmative, only to yelp when my teacher picks me up into her arms. I wiggle around a bit, yet find myself unable to break out of her vice grip. Really, times like this make me wonder how strong Bianca really is. She seems so elegant usually that it kinda clashes with my image of her.
As my teacher’s heels click against the stone paths with each of her steps, I find myself a bit lost in my own thoughts. I knew Momma and my teacher were close friends, but they always glazed over the details of that relationship whenever I asked about it. Stupid adults and their secrets, I just wanna know how they met.
I blink myself back into reality as the familiar crackling of our oven fills my ears, our little cottage quickly approaching. My teacher speeds up even more as it comes into view, and in just a few seconds we arrive to the divine smell of Momma’s cooking. Bianca steps inside, moving into the kitchen where to my surprise, both Pop and Momma are sitting.
“You got my message!” Momma rolls over as Bianca puts me onto the ground. “I was a little worried Fiora would eat both sandwiches and just ignore the note I left.”
I pout, walking over to dad as Bianca giggles. Pitying me, dad puts his hand on my head, which I pretend to push off, though it doesn’t budge. I blow up my cheeks, crossing my arms as I give my best glare at the women happily chatting.
“She was definitely not happy about that by the way, you should probably feed her more.” Bianca smirks at me knowingly. “Just a sandwich and some of your carrots is not bad, but she’s a growing girl.”
I pale and actually try to get dad’s hand off as mom squints at me, but find my strength inadequate to escape Pop’s now tightening grasp. Momma turns to me, her eyes narrowed as she says:
“Fiora, I told you to stop giving the chief’s horses your apples. They’ll get spoiled.”
I huff in defiance, still wiggling around in place trying to get Pop’s hand off, which for some reason makes the adults chuckle.
I don’t get them.
Finally, dad releases me from his unrighteous imprisonment, but just momentarily before he swoops me up into his lap as Bianca sits. Mom rolls over after grabbing a tray out of the oven, putting a gigantic sandwich in the middle of the table, this time filled with warm roast beef. I nearly start drooling, before dad hands me a portion which I begin to greedily devour. Mom quietly laughs as she takes a bite, then adopts a more serious look as she looks up at Bianca and says:
“Now, we called you here because honestly, we both missed you, but we have had a few worries about a couple of things…”
Bianca nods as she swallows, clearing her throat before speaking.
“I missed you both too,” She says with a smile, before asking, “I’m guessing the main worry is Fiora?”
Both my parents nod, and I tilt my head in confusion.
What does that mean? What did I do?
Dad plonks his hand on my head again, scratching my ear. I grumble about it through the sandwich, but my tail, the darn traitor, betrays me as it begins to move. Pop sighs, then begins to speak.
“When we ask her about what the lessons are like, she barely gives an answer.” Dad pokes me in my cheek, to which I snap at his finger with my vicious fangs. I miss. “Also, I’m wondering if she has any friends in class, considering I don’t think I’ve ever seen her speak to anyone but us.”
“I speak to other people… sometimes…” I grumble, then stick the rest of the sandwich into my mouth. I gaze longingly at the rest of the meal as I chew, and Momma sighs. She smiles at me, but I can see the worry hidden in her eyes as she says, “Dear… You know what we say about that. You need to meet other people.”
I nonchalantly shrug, then grin as Pop hands me another portion of the sandwich. Bianca takes a paper covered in fancy looping words out of her bag, sliding it over the table to my parents. Momma picks it up, looking over it with curiosity.
“To be honest, when she’s in class, she acts the same as she does outside of it,” Bianca states, then continues with, “The other children react in a few different ways to it, which does cause… minor issues occasionally. None are something that needs to be resolved immediately, but I do worry about what it could turn into if left to fest.”
I grunt as dad puts his chin on my head, his voice gravely and serious as he asks, “What are the… issues?”
Bianca looks out of the window so I can’t see her face, but Momma’s face says it all as she bites her lip. I only ever see her do that when it’s about my brothers.
“Felin seems to see her as a rival, but the other kids in his growing friend group tend to see it more negatively.” Bianca shakes her head, tapping her fingers on the table. “The problem is more pronounced with Felix and Fred. They’re typically abrasive towards her, sometimes to the point of actions that could be considered bullying.”
Everyone is silent for a moment, but I just tilt my head. I don’t see why any of this is a problem, it’s not like they’re actually bullying me. I’d hit them if they were. Dad sighs, and I hear him run his hand through his hair as he mumbles, “Do I need to… intervene?”
Mom goes pale as Bianca looks at dad in shock, dropping her meal and slamming her palms into the table.
“N-no! Victor, they’re children!” Bianca shakes her head. “We can’t force them to love Fiora, but we can try to improve their relationships as best we can.”
Seemingly nonplussed, dad leans back in his chair, Momma and Bianca sharing a nervous glance. A tense moment passes before dad relents, taking a deep breath as he hugs me tightly.
“I wouldn’t hurt some kids,” he mutters, squishing me a bit, “I’d just scare them a bit is all.”
Momma narrows her eyes at Pop, which makes him raise his head and straighten his back before he stutters out, “I-I won’t though! I’ll leave this to you two.”
Looks of relief arise among the two women at the table, while I continue to munch on my third portion, which I may have pilfered from dad’s plate while everyone was all angry.
A small victory for Fiora.